


Look How Long They Are

by drunkkenobi



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Body Worship, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, idiot hyperfixation baby, leg worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 06:40:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20238400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkkenobi/pseuds/drunkkenobi
Summary: Shane’s got legs and he knows how to use them.





	Look How Long They Are

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all, here is my contribution to this fandom’s long and storied history of fics where Ryan hyperfixates on something of Shane’s and sexy hijinks ensue. In this one, he’s all about those legs. 
> 
> Thank you to Bee/beethechange for the beta! And thanks to Ryan Bergara [for the title](https://i-am-ghost-proof-baby.tumblr.com/post/170693620276/look-how-long-they-are)

_ No blankets or pillows were provided and the mattresses, stuffed with Spanish Moss, were often infested with red bugs. _

“Gross,” Ryan muttered to himself. He was reading a description of the St. Augustine Old Jail, a potential season six Unsolved location. Prisons usually made for great episodes, even if they were some of the most disgusting places to ghoul hunt in.

“Pretty rude of you to say such a thing to the person bringing you your iced coffee that’s more sugar than coffee.”

Shocked by the voice, Ryan nearly fell out of his office chair as he whipped around, his headphones snapping out of their jack and blaring the _ Halloween _ soundtrack to the entire bullpen. While Ryan hurried to mute his music, Shane laughed from behind him.

“Already with the spooky music? At nine in the morning?” he asked.

“Always,” Ryan said, his hand splayed over his chest where his heart was still beating a little wildly. “You scared the shit outta me, dude.”

“Like that’s hard to do,” Shane snorted. “Here, take your damn drink that I waited in line for over _ seven _ minutes for.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

As Ryan reached out for his coffee, he finally noticed that Shane was not in his usual work outfit of chinos and a button-up. Instead, he was wearing his Hot Daga t-shirt and a pair of light blue shorts. Shorts that ended around mid-thigh, leaving a veritable mile of leg exposed to Ryan and the world. Unable to look away, Ryan immediately forgot about his drink, instead just staring at the pale skin that just didn’t seem to end. Not for the first time, he wondered how the fuck someone’s legs even got that long.

“Are you going to take this or should I dump it all over your head?” Shane asked, shoving the iced coffee right in front of Ryan’s nose.

“Huh? Oh right,” he said, quickly grabbing his drink. “You gotta warn a guy before you let those things out, they’re blinding.”

“You mean these babies?” Shane asked, twisting his right foot around to show off his calf. “Look, it’s not my fault it's hotter than Satan’s asshole out there. They have to breathe, Ryan.”

“Well, you should let them breathe more often.”

It slipped out before Ryan could stop himself. It was too early for his brain to have proper control over his big dumb mouth.

“Really, now?” Shane asked, his eyebrows raised. “You think it’s a good look?”

“Nope, not at all,” Ryan said quickly. “I just meant that, you know, they’re so blindingly white that they’re distracting. Get some color on ‘em so I don’t have to wear sunglasses at my desk.”

“You’re just spooked by ‘em ‘cause they’re as translucent as a ghost,” Shane said as he sat down at his own desk.

Ryan laughed around his straw. “Does that mean you’re finally admitting ghosts are real?”

“Nope. Just figuring that’s how that strange mind of yours works. How’d I do?”

Now that he was seated, Shane’s shorts had ridden up an inch or two, revealing even more of his stupidly long thighs. Ryan’s mouth was so dry that he had to take an extra long sip of his iced coffee.

“Got it in one,” Ryan lied. 

* * *

Ryan had always been fascinated by Shane’s height. He’d never regularly been around anyone that much taller than himself and it was a constant source of irritation and amusement for him. Irritation because of the endless supply of short jokes made about himself (he was average, dammit), and amusement because of the endless supply of tall jokes he could make about Shane.

Since Shane was, by his own admission, 80% leg, it was easy to focus on them when they traded height-related barbs. They were just so fucking long that Ryan would find himself staring at them, trying to figure out where the legs ended and the rest of Shane began. But in a normal, platonic way. Because any other way would make it weird, and Ryan wasn’t about to risk the show and their friendship over a vague crush that he wasn’t even sure was real.

But now, with all of that leg and thigh and ankle and knee exposed, Ryan’s crush was quickly crystallizing into a crisp 1080p image. All day, he caught himself staring at any bit of Shane’s leg that he could, so mesmerized that he didn’t even notice it was six o’clock until Shane pushed his chair away from his desk, his legs no longer in Ryan’s periphery. 

“You staying late?” Shane asked as he smoothed the fabric of his shorts out. 

His brain short-circuiting, the best response Ryan could come up with was, “Mmph.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Shane said with a chuckle. “Don’t work yourself too hard.”

_ Too late for that_, Ryan thought to himself, his dick pressing up awkwardly against his zipper.

He watched Shane walked away, possessed with more grace than anyone with such spindly legs should have. Once he was out of sight, Ryan laid his head down on his desk and groaned.

* * *

Shane was back to wearing pants the next day at work. The disappointment that Ryan felt deep in his belly both startled and shamed him (not an unfamiliar feeling when you’re Ryan Steven Bergara, though). He wasn’t supposed to be ogling Shane, anyway. It was dumb to be so bothered by him wearing blue jeans.

But Ryan was still Ryan and he couldn’t help himself.

“No shorts today, big guy?” Ryan asked him, setting Shane’s iced latte on his desk. 

“Nah, it’s too cold in here with the A/C on,” he said. “I’ll just have to deal with the heat when I go outside.”

“Supposed to be a scorcher. You sure you wanna take that chance?”

“I think I can handle the minute it takes me to walk to my car from the front door,” Shane said as he sipped his drink. “You should talk. With the way you’ve got your socks, you’re basically wearing pants too.”

Crossing his arms, Ryan frowned. “I am not. I’ve still got shorts on, like a sensible person.”

Shane cackled, a wide open laugh that was not-so-secretly one of Ryan’s favorite noises in the world. “Sensible! _ Sensible_, he says! With those socks on. Oh, Ryan, that was a good one.”

“Shut up, Shane. It’s fashionable.”

“You’re wearing branded Vans socks with Nikes, khaki shorts, and a cereal t-shirt. That is the least fashionable outfit ever worn by a human adult,” Shane pointed out before taking a long sip of his latte.

“Whatever. At least I’m not going to overheat like you, you big lummox.”

Ryan really thought that the rest of the day would go on like normal. Shane wasn’t in shorts, so there was no reason for Ryan to constantly be stealing glances at his legs like some sort of leg-obsessed-pervert. But every time Ryan’s attention wandered, he found himself staring under their shared desk at Shane’s stretched out legs, trying to remember what they looked like in shorts.

After another day of getting virtually no work done, Ryan realized he was going to have to deal with this in a more proactive way. Grabbing his lube out of his nightstand, he stripped down and laid down on his bed. 

“You get _ one_,” he told his dick, already hard from picturing how good Shane’s legs might look spread out on his sheets. “After this, we’re done thinking about it.”

Two minutes later, Ryan was wiping come off of his headboard and pretty sure he had only made things worse.

* * *

For the rest of the week, Shane wore his regular pants to work, ruining Ryan’s life in the process. By Friday, Ryan was already starting to forget what Shane’s legs looked like under those chinos, which made his desire to see them again all that more intense. He’d even spent a good hour and a half scrolling through his phone’s photo gallery for pictures of Shane in swim shorts, gym shorts, _ any _shorts, but the results were middling at best. With his legs underwater in the hotel jacuzzi tub pics, Ryan couldn’t get a good look at them. Shots of Shane in gym shorts were clearer, but the shorts were longer and baggier. Needless to say, none were what Ryan wanted.

Maybe if he just got one good picture of Shane in shorts, that would be enough. Then Ryan could focus on that and stop shooting his load over imagining Shane’s legs dangling off the edge of Ryan’s bed while Ryan knelt in between them.

So, Ryan formulated a plan. It was pretty simple, but foolproof, which was all that really mattered.

_ From Ryan Bergara to Shane Madej _

_ R: hey big guy wanna get dinner 2morrow nite & talk s6 locations _

_ S: sure! Where do you want to go? _

_ R: little taqueria by my place. suuuuuper fuckin good _

_ S: sounds great! 7? _

_ R: 7 works _

_ R: oh and fyi this place has no ac _

Smiling to himself, Ryan checked the forecast for tomorrow. Highs were supposed to be in the 80s all day. There was no way this wasn’t going to work.

* * *

“Are you FUCKING kidding me?” Ryan muttered angrily under his breath as Shane walked into the taqueria in full-length khaki _ pants_.

“Hey man!” Shane waved, walking over to where Ryan was seated. “Wow, this place smells amazing.”

“Aren’t you hot?” Ryan asked, unable to hide his annoyance.

Shane’s eyebrows went way up as he sunk into his chair. “Huh?”

“Hot. It’s like fuckin’ eighty-five out and I told you this place doesn’t have A/C. Aren’t you boiling alive under those khakis?”

“Nice to see you, too, Ryan. Why yes, I _ am _ having a good day, thank you so much for asking!” Shane said with a roll of his eyes. “I feel fine. What’s it to you?”

“Nothing!” Ryan said quickly. “I’m just, you know, worried about your health, big guy. You’re getting pretty old, gotta watch out for heat stroke.”

“You’re never this concerned with my health when you’re dragging me to every rat-shit-infested building in America to look for ghouls.”

“They’re not _ all _ filled with rat shit,” Ryan argued for no good reason.

“Some of them are, which is more than enough,” Shane pointed out, running a hand through his hair and killing quite a few of Ryan’s brain cells in the process. Even his stupid soft hair was getting long. This was completely unfair.

“I’m being attacked.”

“Oh c’mon, you complain about how gross those places are just as much as I do.”

“Whatever,” Ryan said, no longer invested in their dumb argument. His foolproof plan had failed and now he had to think of new way to get Shane into some shorts. Maybe he could invite him to a pool or the beach? Of course, neither would happen tonight, and Ryan had really gotten his hopes up. Maybe he could accidentally spill something on Shane’s pants while they were eating, forcing him to go home and change. Knowing Shane, he’d just put on different pants. 

Unless it happened somewhere where he had no choice but to wear shorts...

“Hey, you wanna get our stuff to go and have dinner at my place?” Ryan blurted out. 

“Uh, sure,” Shane said, eyeing him with his usual suspicion when Ryan was being ridiculous. Which, you know, fair. “Is it too hot for _ you _ in here or something?”

“Yeah, that’s it,” Ryan nodded. “It’ll be better at my place anyway. We can watch TV and I can kick your ass at Smash.”

“And talk about season six, right? That is why you asked me to have dinner in the first place.”

“Right! Exactly! We’ll do that. And TV. And games and wherever else the night takes us.”

The lines across Shane’s forehead wrinkled together for a moment and Ryan thought the jig was up. But then they smoothed out as he nodded.

“Sounds fun. Let’s make it happen.”

* * *

Once they were in Ryan’s apartment, Ryan began to lose his nerve. How was he going to do this, anyway? Just nonchalantly dump salsa all over Shane’s pants? What if he ruined them? It was so hard for Shane to find pants that fit, it would be a dick move to permanently stain a pair. Maybe he could spray them with water? But how? Fuck. This was such a stupid fucking idea, not to mention weird and pervy and just generally creepy all around. Ryan couldn’t do this. He was just going to have to deal with Shane in pants, no matter how much Ryan’s dick protested.

And then a can of beer intervened.

“Ryan, you are almost thirty years old, how do you only have fuckin’ PBR to drink?” Shane asked, bent over to look inside Ryan’s fridge. 

“I haven’t been shopping in awhile. I’ve got some vodka in the freezer if you’d rather want that.”

“Oh yeah, vodka and tacos, every person’s favorite combination,” Shane said as he pulled out two cans. After tossing one to Ryan, he popped the tab on his own. Beer didn’t just fizz and bubble over, it sprayed out in all directions, covering Shane as well as Ryan’s kitchen floor in mere seconds.

“Holy shit!” Ryan yelled in between gasping laughs. “That thing fucking exploded!”

“It certainly did, didn’t it?” Shane said as he looked down at himself, the beer stains blossoming out across his shirt and pants, and began to crack up. Within seconds, both of them were bent over in hysterics.

“It’s like—it’s like the beer heard you!” Ryan choked out. “The beer heard you shitting all over it and decided to get its revenge!”

“And I shall have mine!” Shane shouted before downing what was left in the can in one long pull and crushing it afterwards.

“Holy shit, dude!”

“Ugh, I haven’t drank that much PBR at once since college.” Shane wiped at his mouth with his forearm, shivering from the aftertaste. “I don’t know how you still drink this shit.”

“Low standards,” Ryan shrugged as he grabbed some paper towels. “If you wanna use a regular towel, they’re under the bathroom sink.”

“Yeah, I don’t think a towel is gonna cut it,” he said, motioning to the dark stains all over his pants. “Is it cool if I just borrow some clothes to wear while my stuff dries?”

“Borrow...clothes,” Ryan repeated back, his brain immediately screeching to a halt.

“PJs or gym clothes should fit well enough. If that’s okay?” Shane added when Ryan didn’t immediately respond.

Ryan shook his head, forcing the image of Shane all done up in Ryan’s workout gear out of his mind. He’d have to unpack that later. “Oh yeah, man. Of course. Least I can do.”

“Thanks. I’ll be cleaning myself up when you find something.”

While Shane gingerly made his way to the bathroom, Ryan rushed into his bedroom. It may have been an accident, but his plan was coming to fruition all the same. He opened his drawer for his gym shorts and rummaged through them, looking for the perfect pair. They couldn’t be too long or too baggy, but they still needed to be able to reasonably fit someone shaped so differently from himself. Finally, Ryan found them; a pair of faded purple Lakers shorts. Not too long, not too small, and branded with Ryan’s favorite thing in the world. They were perfect.

After snagging a t-shirt from his clean laundry pile, Ryan handed the clothes to Shane. Now all he had to do was wait.

“Oh Ryan. You’re so predictable,” Shane said as he opened the bathroom door.

Ryan’s heart skipped a beat. Oh fuck. “I-I am?”

“Yeah,” he said as he walked out into the living room. “Of all your t-shirts, you just happened to give me a Boogara one to wear.”

As soon as Shane walked into view, all of the breath left Ryan’s body in one big _ woosh_. The Lakers shorts ended higher on Shane’s thighs than they did on Ryan, exposing a couple more inches of leg than Ryan expected. And seeing the Lakers logo slapped right across the front of Shane’s thigh punched him right in the gut. 

“Huh?” Ryan eventually asked once he remembered how to speak. “Oh, the shirt. I just grabbed one, wasn’t even paying attention.”

“Sure,” Shane said slyly, falling onto the other end of the couch from Ryan. “Totally an accident.”

It genuinely was, but Ryan knew he’d never convince him otherwise. Besides, he was too busy admiring the pitch-perfect image he’d only half-wittingly created to care. The blue Boogaras shirt may not have matched the purple Lakers shorts, but Shane wearing them together made it about the most perfect outfit Ryan had ever seen. 

“So,” Shane said after taking the first bite of his taco. “Season six, baby! What kinds of rat shit are we going to be stepping in this year? Homegrown Californian rat shit, or perhaps nearby rat shit in Nevada or Oregon? Or are you going to subject us to more bat guano in Arizona?”

“Jesus, stop bringing up rat shit while we’re eating,” Ryan griped. “But since you asked, I was thinking about Florida. St. Augustine is hella haunted, we could get at least two episodes out of one trip there, if not three.”

“While I’m not crazy about going to Florida in the middle of hurricane season, that could be fun. Where else do you have in mind?”

Shane leaned back on the couch to put his feet on the edge of the coffee table, causing the shorts to ride up an extra inch. Ryan nearly choked on the shrimp in his taco and fell into a coughing fit.

“You okay?” Shane asked.

“Not really,” Ryan answered, his voice raspy. “What were we talking about?”

“Season six locations,” Shane said. He was watching Ryan as he ate, like a wolf or a hawk or a goddamn bear. “You got any others?”

“Um.” Ryan cleared his throat. “I was, uh, looking up more places on the east coast. If the travel budget lets us, we could knock out somewhere else in the south. Miami, Atlanta, Charleston, any of those tickle your fancy?”

“Those all sound pretty different. Which one has the ghouls most likely to make you scream like a banshee? Because that’s my vote.”

Ryan hadn’t gotten that far in his research, too consumed with leg lust to do any real digging all week, so he just shrugged. “You know me, man, most places do that.”

“True.” A bit of salsa fell out of Shane’s taco onto his thigh and Ryan was hit with an intense desire to lick it up. “You know, I’ve been looking at places, too.”

“Mmhm,” Ryan murmured. Shane hadn’t wiped it off yet. Why wasn’t he wiping it off? 

“Nothing too in-depth, since, you know, I’m not supposed to know all the history beforehand. But I did find a haunted hotel that I think could be fun, and not infested with animal feces. It’s in a little town called Deadwood, South Dakota.” Shane paused to wipe the salsa off with his thumb. When he sucked it off, Ryan literally groaned. 

“Hey now, we do all kinds of shit you love all the time. We can do another cowboy episode for me,” Shane said. “We can take our cowboy hats and get demonetized for calling each other ‘cocksucker’ every five seconds, it’ll be great!”

Shane saying the word “cocksucker” so soon after sucking salsa off his thumb just about did Ryan in. His dick, which had been threatening to make itself known ever since Shane had come out in the shorts, finally couldn’t take it anymore. Ryan shifted away from Shane, hoping to keep his half-chub hidden.

“Really? You have nothing to say to that?” Shane asked. There was an edge to his voice now, one Ryan didn’t quite recognize.

“Hmm? Yeah cowboy shit, sounds fun, whatever.”

“Whatever? _ Whatever_?” Shane repeated back. He carefully set his plate on the coffee table before swinging his body around to face Ryan directly, with one leg tucked up under the other. It was the best/worst thing Ryan had ever seen. “Okay, what’s going on? Tell me the truth.”

“What? Nothing! Nothing’s going on, big guy. Just havin’ some tacos, you know, that’s all that’s going on!” Ryan babbled as he tried to tug his shirt down to cover the growing tent in his pants.

“Super convincing,” Shane said with a roll of his eyes. “Come on. I know you. You’re being weird, what is it?”

“I’m not being weird. _ You’re _ being weird, you big...weirdo.”

Shane looked disappointed, but whether it was from Ryan’s crappy comeback or something else, Ryan couldn’t tell. “Wow. You really can’t come out and say it, huh?”

“There’s nothing to say, really,” Ryan said, his voice cracking on the “really”. Fuck, this was a disaster. He should have never given Shane those stupid sexy shorts.

“Jesus Christ, just rip the band-aid! If we’re getting canceled, stop beating around the bush and fucking tell me!” Shane shouted in a rush.

The shock hit Ryan so hard that his boner was immediately forgotten. He turned around fully to see Shane staring hard at him, his features sharp enough to cut steel.

“What? Shane...what?”

“Just get it over with. I can tell you’ve been trying to tell me all night,” he said, not bothering to hide the hurt in his voice.

“Shane...no. No no no. You’re wrong, you’re so fucking wrong, holy shit I can’t believe how wrong you are,” Ryan said quickly. His guilt at lusting over Shane’s legs was nothing compared to this. In all the fights they’d ever had, he’d never heard Shane be this genuinely upset. Ryan had to fix this. “We’re not canceled. I promise.”

“Really?” he asked, a smile briefly flashing over his face. 

Ryan smiled back. “Really. I swear, everything with the show is good, okay?” 

Shane ran a hand through his hair, tugging on some of the longer strands, as he let out a deep sigh of relief. “_Man_, you have no idea how happy I am to hear that. I was so fucking sure that you were being all squirrelly because of bad news.”

“I’m not squirrelly.”

“You’re literally curled up on the edge of your couch like an actual squirrel,” he pointed out. “You gonna tell me what’s actually going on now?”

“Noth—”

“_Ryan_,” Shane interrupted. “Come on. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

While Shane was smiling at him, Ryan could tell he was still on alert. He was hunched over more than normal and his hands were curled tightly around each other, his knuckles like snow-capped mountains. Fuck. Ryan couldn’t stand seeing him like this. He was going to have to tell him, consequences be damned.

With his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, Ryan mumbled, “It’s really stupid.”

“We can deal with stupid. I deal with stupid all the time. I mean, I work with you, right?” Shane joked, poking Ryan in the shoulder.

“Hilarious,” Ryan deadpanned as he scrubbed his hands over his face. Keeping his eyes focused on the floor, he took a deep breath and finally said it outloud. 

“It’s your legs.”

“My...legs?” Shane repeated back. “What about them?”

“They’re...well, they’re ruining my life. Which isn’t fair, I know, but they are. You wore shorts the other day and I haven’t been able to stop fantasizing about them and I kept thinking that if I just saw them again that that would be the end of it, but now I’m rocking a half-boner over here ‘cause I’m a fucking creep.”

Silence. Ryan hated silence, it made him so anxious, but he couldn’t bear to say another word. He just kept staring at the floor with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped, praying that Shane wouldn’t quit the show.

“Um. That’s—uh. That’s a lot, Ryan,” Shane eventually said, his voice rough around the edges.

“I know. You probably wish we were getting canceled now, huh?” Ryan asked with a hollow laugh.

“No,” Shane said softly, scooting closer to him on the couch. “I do wish you had told me, though. Would’ve saved myself a lot of worrying over nothing.”

“I was trying to deal with it,” Ryan shrugged. “Not very well, obviously, but I was. I was never...I didn’t plan on telling you.”

“But you did plan on this, right? Taking us to a hot restaurant and then suggesting we eat in your apartment before giving me a shaken-up beer can so I’d have to change.”

“The beer was an accident, but otherwise, yeah,” he confirmed. God, it sounded so much worse when Shane said it all out loud like that. “I’m sorry. I’m officially the worst friend ever, you can...if you wanna leave, I understand.” 

But Shane didn’t get off the couch. Instead, he laid a hand on Ryan’s wrist, his long fingers wrapping loosely around the pulse point.

“I don’t want to leave.”

Ryan finally tore his eyes away from the floor to look at him. Instead of the fury and betrayal Ryan expected to see etched all over his face, Shane was...well, he looked like Shane. Soft crinkles around the eyes, a small upturn of the lips, hair wild and fluffy. 

It took until that moment for Ryan to realize it wasn’t just the legs he was into.

“I don’t want you to leave, either,” Ryan breathed. 

“I kinda got that, bud,” he smiled. “I’m flattered, by the way. Also confused and frustrated and thrilled, not to mention relieved. But mostly flattered.”

“You should be mad. I wouldn’t blame you—wait. Did you say ‘thrilled’?”

Shane tightened his hold on Ryan’s wrist. “Yeah. I did.”

Ryan’s heart began to beat so hard that he was sure Shane could feel it under his fingers. “B-but but I’m a creep! I’m—”

“You’re a weirdooo,” Shane sang in a not half-bad Thom Yorke warble. 

“Shane, I’m serious, I’ve been jerking myself raw thinking about you. It’s creepy.”

Shane shrugged. “If it is, we’re in the same creepy boat. You know how often I think about you?”

All of the hair on Ryan’s arms stood straight up. “...what?” 

“It’s your arms, for me. And your shoulders.” He let go of Ryan’s wrist to walk his fingers up Ryan’s arms, all the way up to his shoulders. Ryan shivered. “Nice back too.” His hand briefly splayed out against Ryan’s back, between his shoulder blades. “It’s mostly the face, though. Which is lucky for me, since it doesn’t get covered up. Don’t have to plot out ludicrous schemes to see it.”

Shane cupped his hand around Ryan’s face, his thumb lightly rubbing against his cheek. It was so intensely tender that Ryan had to close his eyes to keep it together.

“If you’re fucking with me, I’m gonna kill you,” he warned.

Shane chuckled. “Always knew you were a romantic.”

“I am, actually. I’m so fucking romantic.”

Even though his eyes were still closed, Ryan could tell Shane leaned in close by the puff of breath he felt on his lips. “Prove it.”

Fingers trembling, Ryan reached out blindly for Shane’s other hand. Shane grabbed it, gripping onto Ryan tightly. He was always the calm one, even now. Thank God one of them was.

Ryan swallowed hard and leaned forward. Before he could flash open his eyes and make sure his aim was right, Shane’s lips pressed against his own.

They were soft, a nice contrast from the day-old stubble around them, and Ryan wasted no time in deepening the kiss. A pleasant noise escaped from Shane’s throat, his hand inching up into Ryan’s hairline. Ryan nipped at Shane’s bottom lip as he pulled back.

“Was that romantic enough for you, big guy?”

“Pretty good, but I’ve had better,” Shane grinned, clearly goading him.

“No, you haven’t,” Ryan said darkly before hauling Shane onto his lap. Startled, Shane gripped onto the back of the couch as Ryan helped him arrange his legs on either side of Ryan’s thighs. Eyes on Shane’s the whole time, Ryan spread his hands over Shane’s thighs to hold him in place. 

“Jesus Christ,” Shane said quietly. “You, uh, you just. Did that.”

“Yeah,” Ryan said, losing his cool as quickly as he’d won it. He couldn’t move his hands off of Shane’s legs, they were so warm and firm under his fingers. “Is this—shit. It’s probably not comfortable, is it? Fuck, I’m sorry.”

Shane switched his grip from the couch to Ryan’s shoulders, his thumbs pressing into Ryan’s collarbone. He towered over Ryan like this, even more than usual. “I can manage for a little bit.”

Hunching over, Shane kissed him again. This one was dirtier, with more tongue and teeth. Ryan’s dick pressed up uncomfortably against his fly, but he didn’t want to let go long enough to deal with it, even though he could feel Shane’s hard dick as well. Ryan’s fingers snuck under the shorts, inching high enough that he expected to have found Shane’s underwear by now.

Unless…

“Holy shit,” Ryan gasped, pulling back just enough to stare at him with wide eyes. “You-You’re not wearing underwear, are you?”

“No,” Shane admitted, red flooding his face. 

Ryan groaned, his head hitting the back of the couch. “You’re torturing me, you know that right?”

“Oh yeah, I just love violating the Geneva conventions,” he joked as he rocked forward in Ryan’s lap. 

“I’m serious, I’m gonna have to get these things bronzed or some shit now,” Ryan said as he shoved both hands as far under the shorts as he could, squeezing around Shane’s upper thighs and ass. 

“Fuck,” Shane gasped. “Do that again.”

As Ryan did, Shane dropped his head down, chasing Ryan’s lips with his own. When Ryan squeezed again, Shane grinded as best he could against Ryan’s stomach. They stayed in that rhythm for awhile, long enough that they were no longer properly making out, instead trading clumsy, hot kisses.

Eventually, Shane was the one to pull back. “Okay, this is all really hot, but my back’s gonna give out if we stay like this for much longer.

“Yeah, okay,” Ryan said, reluctantly letting go of his thighs.

Shane stood up, stretching his arms high enough that the hem of the t-shirt rode up enough to reveal a line of hair leading down from his navel into the purple shorts. Ryan had to get a proper hand around his dick and relieve some of the pressure before he came in his pants like a sixteen-year-old.

“Wow. I’m really doin’ it for you, huh?” Shane asked with an unforgiving smirk. 

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Did the dry humping not give it away? Yeah, I’m pretty hot for you, Long Legs.” 

“Always liked that nickname. Speaking of.” He held out a hand. “Come on. Let’s find out what happens when I get out of these shorts.”

Ryan groaned as he took Shane’s hand. “Oh fuck.”

* * *

Sitting on the edge of his bed in just his birthday suit, Ryan squeezed the base of his cock. Everything he’d been fantasizing about was about to happen, in real life. He had to make sure he could last long enough to enjoy it.

Shane tossed the Boogaras shirt over his shoulder, doing a little twirl as he did it. All that was left were the shorts. Hooking his thumbs in the waistband, Shane began to pull them down.

“Wait,” Ryan interrupted. “Can I?”

Shane shuffled forward a couple feet to stand right in front of him. “Knock yourself out.”

Ryan took a deep breath before tugging the shorts down. Underneath the purple fabric was everything he’d been dreaming about. Every inch of those long legs right in front of him, not to mention Shane’s cock (also long. Of course). Ryan shoved the shorts down so they could fall to the floor and then immediately pressed his mouth high on Shane’s right thigh. He left a trail of wet kisses across it before doing the same to the other one.

“Wow,” Shane said softly. “You, uh, you weren’t exaggerating about the leg thing, huh?”

“Nope. It’s not just the legs, though,” Ryan said before licking up Shane’s hard cock.

“Shit,” Shane hissed, one of his hands threading itself in Ryan’s hair. “Please feel free to keep doing all of that as much as you want.”

“You sure? I want—fuck. I want a lot, Shane.”

Shane swallowed, his eyes dark. “Me too.”

“Fuckin’ A. Okay, fuck, just get—_here_,” Ryan babbled as he fell back on the bed, urging Shane to come with him. Laughing, Shane promptly joined, crawling on top of him.

“Okay okay, I’m here,” Shane said, the crinkles around his eyes deep. “Now what?”

Grabbing onto Shane’s shoulders, Ryan rolled them over so that he was on top. Ryan could really get used to how unmoored Shane got by being manhandled, his eyes wide and his nostrils flared. 

“How do you feel about hickeys?” Ryan asked as he tapped his fingers across Shane’s collarbone.

“Uh. Kinda tacky and a little embarrassing, to be honest. Especially in the summer, when you can’t just cover them up with a scarf.”

“Wow, so unimaginative,” Ryan said, shaking his head. “You think I’m talking about sucking one into your neck?”

“Oh. _Oh._” Pink blossomed beautifully up said neck and damn, if Ryan didn’t want to suck a bruise onto it now. Maybe another time. “You mean my legs, don’t you?”

“Duh. But if you’re still not into it, that’s fine—”

“No,” Shane interrupted. “I mean, yes. I mean, I’m into that. Just...where no one can see them.”

“You wear pants all the time, so that gives me a lot of options, big guy,” Ryan said as he settled in between Shane’s legs. He was all spread out now, his limbs taking up an exorbitant amount of Ryan’s bed. It was even better than Ryan had imagined.

Sitting on his knees, Ryan lifted Shane’s right calf up and gently kissed the inside of his ankle. Shane huffed underneath him, his calf muscles twitching involuntarily. Ryan smoothed one hand up through his prickly leg hair to hold the back of his knee, while he left sharp kisses all along his calf. 

“They’re so goddamn long,” he murmured as he set Shane’s right leg down and lifted up his left.

“I know, I’m the one that has to buy pants for them,” Shane said, flexing his left leg.

“_I know you know,_” Ryan said, a little exasperated. “Let me be in awe without your fuckin’ commentary.”

“You love my commentary,” he lobbed back, albeit quietly. Ryan glanced up to find Shane flushed and sweaty, holding onto the base of his cock. He seemed pretty far gone for how little Ryan had touched him, which gave Ryan an idea.

“I love your legs,” Ryan corrected, running his fingers up and down Shane’s left leg. Just like he expected, Shane’s grip tightened around his cock. Jackpot.

“I can’t get over how fucking far they go,” Ryan continued. He set Shane’s leg back down so he could smooth his hands up both of them at once. “I mean, Jesus Christ, look at how far I have to stretch my arms to do this.”

“Not fair,” Shane groaned, his head tipping back against the pillow. “You can’t say that and flex at the same time, come on.”

That was all the encouragement Ryan needed to keep going. “Really? You don’t like this?” He squeezed Shane’s thighs, making sure to flex his triceps as he did it. “You don’t like hearing how gorgeous your legs are?”

“I’m gonna _ ruin _ you,” Shane warned, his face just as red as his cock now.

Ryan spread his thighs far enough apart so he could lay down in between them. “Can’t wait.”

Pressing his lips high up on Shane’s inner right thigh, Ryan began to suck. His skin was so soft and pale there that it didn’t take long for a mouth-shaped red mark to appear. When Ryan went back in for more, he bit down harder before quickly licking over the mark. Above him, Shane let out a strangled noise he’d never heard before, as a gigantic hand tangled itself in Ryan’s hair. Ryan scraped his teeth over the bruise, hoping to hear Shane make that noise again.

“God_ dammit_. Fuck me, Ryan, _ please_,” he huffed out instead.

Ryan lifted his head up, his ears buzzing. “What?”

“You heard me,” Shane said, tugging on Ryan’s hair. “You’ve got condoms and lube, right?”

“Yeah. I just.” Ryan paused as he tried to wrap his mind around this. He had no idea this was even on the table, let alone happening _ right now_. “Are you sure?”

Sitting up, Shane cupped Ryan’s cheeks and kissed him so hard their teeth clacked. “You’re not the only one fulfilling a fantasy here.”

Ryan dropped his forehead onto Shane’s shoulder. “Fuck. Okay. But fair warning, I’m gonna last like two minutes, tops.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t either. I just...I want it,” he said, the last bit barely above a whisper. 

Ryan pressed a soft kiss to Shane’s shoulder. “Me too, big guy.”

The prep went quickly enough. Ryan opened Shane up with two, and then three twisting fingers while Shane squirmed underneath him. Someday, they would take their time with this part, but for now, it was enough. Ryan rolled the condom on and slicked himself up. Before he could push in, though, Shane hooked one of his legs up around Ryan’s waist.

“Now I’m gonna last one minute,” Ryan groaned.

“Knew you’d like that,” Shane said with a smirk.

“Shut up,” Ryan gritted out as he began to slide inside. Gasping, Shane squeezed his leg around Ryan, urging him forward. Yeah, there was no way this was going to be some epic, long lovemaking sesh. As soon as Ryan bottomed out, he could feel himself right on the edge, and by the looks of it, Shane wasn’t far behind. Ryan got a hand around his cock, spreading the precome all along the shaft so he could catch up.

“Oh fuck, Ryan, Jesus Christ,” Shane moaned. 

“Same,” Ryan huffed out as he grinded in and out of Shane. He could barely get a rhythm going, too overwhelmed by the Shane of it all, so hot and tight around him. Gripping Shane’s thigh with his free hand, Ryan tried to keep it together for him, but it didn’t matter. Swearing like a sailor, Shane came all over his own stomach and Ryan’s hand and Ryan followed him quickly with one last thrust, his fingers pressing new bruises into Shane’s leg.

Breathing heavily, they stared at each other. 

“Fuck,” was all Ryan could say, too at a loss for anything more meaningful.

“I know,” Shane agreed. “We forgot to put the tacos away!”

A burst of laughter exploded out of Ryan. “Holy shit! And I never cleaned up that beer!”

“That’s how you get ants, Ryan!” Shane wheezed, waving his arms around all hysterically. “I bet they’re staging a takeover in your kitchen right now!”

Ryan was laughing so hard it was all he could do to pull out of Shane gently. Once he did, he flopped down next to him, clutching his chest as he tried to calm down. “My dick was just inside you, dude!”

“I know, I was there, _ dude_,” Shane mocked, turning over onto his side towards him. “Is your mind melting? Did I actually ruin you?”

“Little bit,” he admitted, wiping a tear from his eye. “That escalated so quickly.”

“I’ll say,” Shane agreed. “Seriously, are you okay?”

Ryan took a deep breath to relax himself, but the endorphins couldn’t wipe the giant smile off his face. “Yeah. I’m good, Long Legs. Real good.”

* * *

The next morning, they were back on the couch, devouring breakfast burritos and iced caffeinated drinks. Shane was laying against the arm of the couch, so he could stretch his legs out into Ryan’s lap. 

“I’m gonna disappoint you, you know,” Shane said, out-of-the-blue.

“What? How?”

“I’m not going to suddenly start wearing shorts to work now. Especially not on ghoul hunts, even if they are in Florida in August.”

“Oh. That’s okay. I don’t know if we should even go to Florida, it is kind of crazy to go during hurricane season, isn’t it?”

“That’s what’ll make it a good episode!” Shane said encouragingly. “Besides, when else am I gonna get to have an argument with you about what’s more dangerous, alligators or bears?”

“Easy. Bears,” Ryan said simply. “But there are a hundred other places we can go, too. I hear South Dakota’s pretty nice in August.”

Shane’s legs twitched as he busied himself with his burrito. “We don’t have to. It’s a pretty self-indulgent idea. Doing a bunch of places in the south makes more sense, and we’ll probably get more out of the budget that way.”

“Like I’m one to judge about self-indulgence.” Ryan set his plate down to curl a hand around Shane’s knee. “Let’s go. I love cowboy shit and haunted hotels, it sounds great.”

Grinning wide, Shane knocked his knees together. “Okay, but these babies are gonna be covered up by all kinds of Sheriff Seth Bullock cosplay. Fair warning.”

“That’s Ian McShane, right?” 

Shane nearly choked on his burrito, his limbs flailing. “_Ryan_. It is absolutely not Ian McShane! He’s Al Swearengen. Seth Bullock is Timothy Olyphant, at his absolute hottest, I might add. How could you get them mixed up?!”

“Oh. I’ve never watched it. Supposed to be good, right?” he shrugged, hiding a smile. While Ryan really had never watched Deadwood, he knew acting blasé about it would drive Shane crazy.

“_WHAT?!_” Shane squawked. “Okay, where’s your remote? We’re starting episode one, right here, right fucking now.”

As Shane fiddled with remotes, carrying on about symbolism and the American Dream and Timothy Olyphant’s mustache, Ryan couldn’t stop grinning. How had it taken him so long to realize he was head-over-heels for this guy?

“Hey,” Ryan said, squeezing his hand around Shane’s wrist. “I don’t care if you wear pants every day for the rest of your life, okay? It was never just about your legs.”

Shane smiled as pink crept up his neck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

To drive the point home, Ryan laid a long and slightly dirty kiss on him. When they pulled apart, Shane licked over his lips.

“You know, we don’t have to watch this. We could go for another round, if you want.”

“Maybe later. Right now I really want to watch this dumb cowboy show with you.”

“It’s not _ dumb_, how dare you!” Shane scolded but he was grinning anyway. 

They rearranged themselves on the couch, Shane’s arm thrown around Ryan’s shoulders and Ryan’s hand on the inside of Shane’s thigh.

“Ready to start?” Shane asked once Deadwood was pulled up on the HBO app.

“Yeah, big guy. I’m ready.”


End file.
